


Moonbow

by DonTheRock



Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: Coming Out, Disapproving Family, Explicit Language, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Gay, Kippen Siblings, LGBTQ Themes, Love, M/M, Neighbors, No Smut, References to Alcohol, References to Drugs, Summer Romance, Summer Vacation, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:40:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 20,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23047921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DonTheRock/pseuds/DonTheRock
Summary: Cyrus Goodman goes to stay at his father and step-mother's house on the other side of Shadyside for the summer. When he gets there, his father gives him one rule: stay away from the neighbour's son. Of course, when the neighbour's son introduces himself as TJ Kippen, Cyrus finds it hard to follow this rule.
Relationships: Amber/Andi Mack, Cyrus Goodman & T. J. Kippen, Cyrus Goodman/T. J. Kippen, Jonah Beck/Walker Brodsky, Tyrus – Relationship
Comments: 71
Kudos: 138





	1. Prologue

**Cyrus's POV**

My dad's house stands tall, stretching almost as high as the old trees in the neighbourhood. The garden is filled with mostly daisies, since those are my step-mom's favorite flowers. Wind rattles the wooden chimes that hang from a beam above the porch. Even with all of that, the house's most recognizable feature is still the pumpkin orange door that's been that colour since my dad and my step-mom first bought the house two months ago.

The location of the structure is just a little over thirty minutes from my mom's house, hence why I've only stayed here a few times on just weekends, since it is inconveniently far from both Grant High School and my friends, although my friends could come see me here—which they certainly plan to do—so long as they're willing to use the gas. Buffy and Jonah can both drive, so it's easy for them to get here. Andi, however, will likely be making one of the other two drive her, since she's decided driving is too expensive, and she'd rather bus to school with me every day. 

I wave goodbye to my mom, and she zooms away in her car. The wooden stairs clunk as I step on them to get up to the door. I only have to knock twice before my step-mom, Sharon, answers. Right away, she gives me a smile and a hug and lets me into the entryway. 

"Norman!" she calls to the kitchen. "Cyrus is here!"

I adjust the strap of my bag on my shoulder and head toward the kitchen where my dad meets me with open arms. He hugs the same way Sharon does, tight and brisk, then steps back with a grin. 

"How are you doing?" he asks me. 

"Pretty good," I reply. "How are the carrots growing?"

Last time I was here was two weekends ago when Sharon and I decided to plant vegetables in the backyard garden so that her and my dad wouldn't have to buy as much from the store over the summer. I haven't been able to see the carrot seeds since then, but I imagine their leaves must be sprouting by now.

"They're getting there," Dad answers. "They'll be ready to eat soon enough, and we can cook all your favorites with them. I'm so glad I'll get to have you around all summer. I don't see you often enough anymore when you're in school."

"I agree," I say with a smile of my own. "I like it here. It's nice being able to go out to the ridge and see the mountains."

"If you haven't already, you should go there at dusk," Sharon suggests. "The stars are gorgeous on the edge of the town."

"That sounds beautiful," I say, "but does curfew still apply in the summer?"

"As long as you make sure to let me know where you are, I'm willing to drop it," my dad answers. 

I smile, feeling the rush of freedom fall over me. It's going to be a good summer. 

"Cool, well, I'm gonna go put my stuff away," I say.

I start toward the stairs, but my attention is stolen as I pass by a window to the backyard. Outside, the bushes and tree branches sway in the breeze, but that's not what grabs my attention. On the deck in the yard backing my dad's, a teenage boy sits playing a large white piano that's stationed safely underneath the cover of a slanted roof held up by pillars. He looks completely spellbound by whatever song he's playing, swaying as he presses the keys. I've never noticed him any of the other days I've been here. I guess he was just never outside when I was looking. I have only been here four other times before, so that makes sense. 

"What'chu looking at?" Dad wonders. 

"There's a boy playing the piano."

He comes over to peek through the window with me, but the second he sees what has my interest, he frowns. 

"That's TJ Kippen," my dad explains. "I may have removed your curfew, but I do have one rule that I need you to follow: stay away from that boy. He's bad news."

"Why?" I ask. 

"He's just not the kind of kid I want to associating with."

My dad steps away, and I figure I should do the same, but I take another second to just watch the blonde at the piano. He doesn't look like trouble, but I suppose my father has his reasons for not liking him. 

I continue on upstairs to my bedroom. The space is much more empty than my room at my mom's house, for I haven't been here enough yet to make the space my own. Currently, it's painted plan white with only the colours of the books on my shelf and the photos of my friends stuck on the walls to provide any colour. The quilt on my bed is basic grey, so that doesn't help much. I'll have to do some decorating over the summer.

I drop my bag down on my bed and glance up at the window. It leads to the backyard, and with that realization, I climb up onto the mattress and peer out, wondering if the boy is still out on his deck. The deck cover is just high enough for me to see him playing the instrument from up here. 

I undo the lock on the window and start spinning the handle which opens the window outward. Immediately, the sound of the music comes floating through the screen, and it takes me a minute, but I eventually recognize the melody of the song as being "Grace" by Lewis Capaldi. The boy, TJ Kippen, plays it incredibly well, not messing up a single note. 

I watch him for a while, letting the music mesmerize me and fill my body with tranquility. When I do finally move, I leave the window open so that I can continue listening to the pianist play while I unpack my belongings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm super excited for another Tyrus story. I feel like it's been forever since I wrote one. I really hope you all like it, and as always, please comment whatever you're feeling or thinking whenever you feel or think it, because I really do love reading the comments. I also love you. Good night!


	2. Chapter 2

**Cyrus's POV**

My phone lights up as a text comes through.

 **JB:** So Cy Guy, how's the first day of summer without us?

 **Slayer:** It's not without us. He's just on the other side of town. We can go see him whenever we want.

 **Andi:** YOU can. I have to take three busses to get there. 

**Slayer:** Andi, you could get your licence at any time. 

**Andi:** ...

 **Andi:** I'm happy with my scooter. 

**JB:** You still have that thing? I thought your mom made you get rid of it. 

**Andi:** No. Cyrus just kept it in his garage for a VERY long time. 

**Me:** Hey, guys. You were asking about me?

 **JB:** Cyrus!

 **JB:** How's your dad's?

 **Me:** Same as always. Comfortable temperature. Lots of cassettes from bands I've never heard of. 

**Slayer:** Nothing new?

 **Me:** Well, I don't have a curfew. 

**Me:** Oh, there's also this boy my age who plays the piano in his backyard.

 **Andi:** He cute?

 **Me:** I've only seen him from my window, so I can't really tell. 

**Me:** Plus, I'm not even allowed to talk to him anyway. 

**Andi:** What? Why not?

 **Me:** My dad says he's bad news.

 **Slayer:** In what way?

 **Me:** idk

 **JB:** I've never heard of a piano-playing bad boy before. 

**JB:** Guess there's a first for everything. 

**Andi:** Except the things that don't happen. Then there's never a first.

 **JB:** Good point. Like Walker actually liking me back.

 **Andi:** JONAH BECK, YOU CAN'T EXPECT HIM TO LIKE YOU IF YOU CONSTANTLY AVOID HIM WHENEVER YOU SEE HIM!

 **JB:** So you see why it will never happen.

 **Me:** Jonah, if you like him, just ask him out.

 **Slayer:** Stop waiting for him to make the first move.

 **Andi:** Stop being a wimp, and just do it.

 **JB:** I feel targeted.

 **JB:** I'll ask Walker out when Cyrus asks out the piano player.

 **Me:** Did you not pay attention to when I said I'm not allowed to see him?

 **JB:** You're allowed to do anything if you don't get caught. I took a coarse on law. I would know.

 **Andi:** Jonah, that's not how the law works. 

**Slayer:** Hey, my break's about to end, so I gtg. 

**JB:** See you! Make lots of sales.

 **Slayer:** Jonah, I'm a kids' basketball coach at a summer camp.

 **JB:** So no sales?

 **Slayer:** Not unless I'm selling the kids. 

**JB:** Okay, yeah, don't make lots of sales. 

**Slayer:** Cyrus, I have Friday off. Any chance I can come over that day?

 **Me:** Yes! Please!

 **JB:** I'm off work at 3:00, so I'll be there after that. 

**Andi:** Anyone willing to drive me?

 **Slayer:** I can. 

**Me:** Great! I'll see you guys Friday.

 **Slayer:** See you!

I lock my phone and set it down on my nightstand. The sound of birds chirping seeps through the house from outside, and the morning sun illuminates my walls. Unfortunately, it also makes all the scuffs and marks highly visible. I'll have to paint my room at some point over the summer. 

A knock makes me jump a little where I sit on my bed, and the door creaks as my dad opens it up. 

"Hey, Cyrus, Sharon and I will be with clients starting pretty soon, so just be quiet if you're passing by the offices."

"Got it," I respond. 

My dad smiles and steps out, closing the door again behind him, but I only open it again ten minutes later when I realize my breakfast wasn't enough. I glide down the stairs, trying not to make too much noise, and go into the kitchen. The offices are down the hallway by the living room, which is on the other end of the main floor, so over here, I don't have to worry as much about keeping the volume low. 

After getting a glass from the cabinet, I walk over to the fridge to fill it up with water. As I close it and take a sip, I notice the neighbour's deck through the window over the sink. The boy is out again, pouring his heart into the instrument keys. 

Dad said he's trouble, so it would be stupid of me to go outside just to watch him play. That's why I take a book from the shelf in the living room first. I open the door and walk out to my own house's back deck, choosing a chair at the table that's situated perfectly so that I can watch the boy and read at the same time. 

Okay, so obviously I'm not reading. I hold the book open on a random page while drinking my cup of water and staring at the piano player. I don't know the song he plays today, but it's just as beautiful as the one from yesterday. 

Unfortunately, my unwavering attention on the boy over the fence becomes my downfall when I reach for my glass again and accidentally knock it over, spilling the water onto the table. The loud clink breaks the boy away from his song, and he spots me watching him.

"Enjoying the show?" he calls out.

I feel myself blush in embarrassment as I pick up the cup, but he just grins. 

"You're very talented," I respond, trying to remove some of the awkwardness from the situation.

"Thanks," TJ says. "I'm still learning the song, so it's not really that good yet."

"I wouldn't have known," I say. "It sounds good to me."

He smiles again and turns to face me on the bench. Then he stands up and starts walking down the steps of his deck, toward the fence. For a brief second, I can't see him, until his hands reach up for the fence and hoist his body up to sit on top, his legs dangling over on my side. Now that he's up closer, I would be able to answer Andi's question definitively; he is cute, very cute. His sandy hair falls down on either side of his face. Some strands curl in front of his eyes, which I can see are light-coloured, but I can't tell from this distance whether they're blue or green. 

"I'm TJ Kippen," he introduces. 

I smile. "Cyrus Goodman."

"I didn't realize Dr. Goodman and Dr. Frank had a son."

"I'm just Dr. Goodman's son."

"His son who likes blue eyes?"

I feel my stomach tumble. How did he know I was looking at his eyes?

After a second, he chuckles and says, "The novel."

I look down at the book in my hands, closing it to see the cover. The book is called _The Bluest Eye_ by Toni Morrison. I probably should've checked what book I was grabbing when I picked it. 

"Oh, right," I respond, trying to laugh off my mistake. 

"My sister's read that book," TJ says. "I hear it's good."

"You have a sister?"

"I have three, and two brothers. But most of them are out of the house, so it's just me and my sister, Amber, left."

"Are you the youngest?" I ask.

He nods. "The youngest of six. Do you have any siblings?"

"Nope. I had a bird once, though. That's about as close to having a siblings as I got."

"What happened to the bird?" 

"I opened the window."

TJ laughs, and I watch as he sweeps his hair up out of his face, resulting in it falling back down again anyway. 

"Is this your first time in the neighbourhood?" he wonders. "Or have you been around, and I just haven't noticed?"

"I've been here a few times, but not for long," I answer. "I usually stay at my mom's house, which is all the way on the other end of Shadyside."

"So you probably haven't seen all the wonders of Citrusdale," he concludes. 

"I've seen the 8-Twelve at the corner," I reply. "It does a poor job of imitating 7-Eleven. It's Slurpees are always melted."

That makes him chuckle again, and he says, "Well, I don't have time now, but if you're free tonight, I could take you on a proper tour of the neighbourhood."

I consider the offer for a moment. I've already disobeyed my dad by coming outside and talking to this boy, but he really doesn't seem like a bad person. Actually, he's incredibly charming. Still, I'm going to be under my dad and step-mom's care all summer long, and breaking their one rule on the second day of being here really isn't the best way to start off. 

"I shouldn't," I say. 

TJ raises his eyebrows. "But you want to."

He's got me there.

"Okay," I agree. 

"Cool," TJ says with a pleased grin. "I'll be at your house at seven."

"Don't come up to the door," I tell him, realizing my dad would flip out if he saw TJ at our house. "Uh, my parents don't like interruptions when they're with their patients. Just text me instead."

"Sure. What's your number?"

I recite the digits, and he types them into his phone then tucks the device away again into his pocket. 

"Cool," TJ says again. "I'll see you then. Enjoy reading your book...if that's what you came out here to do."

Daylight sparkles off his grin, and then he leaps down off the fence, heading inside his house. I toss my book on the table in a spot where there isn't half-evaporated water, and I let my head fall back, staring up at the blue sky. 

My dad gave me one rule, and I've already broken it. Is it bad that I don't feel at all guilty? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dia dhuit. I hope you all enjoyed this second chapter. I love it so much. I'm actually incredibly excited for this story. Thank you so much all you lovelies for supporting me and reading this. I have big things planned, so I do hope you'll stick around for that. Love you! Good day!


	3. Chapter 3

**TJ's POV**

"Hey, I can take a course on mysticism and the occult," Amber says in excitement.

My sister lies on her stomach with her laptop in front of her as she searches through all the possible courses she could take at the University of Shadyside, more commonly referred to as U of S, next year. While she occupies my bed, I'm sitting in the bean bag chair on my floor, tossing a miniature basketball between my hands. She often does this where she waltzes on into my room and decides to take it over, making me listen to whatever is on her mind at the moment, even though I rarely ever provide any useful feedback. 

"Amber, aren't you an English major?" I respond. 

"Yeah, but I could take it as an elective," she reasons. She continues scrolling down the website and says a second later, "I could take intro to logistics and supply-chain management."

"What even is that?"

"No idea." She furrows her brows as she reads a little more into depth. "Never mind. It involves math. What about existentialism? Maybe I could take all three."

"How many electives are you planning to take this year?" I question.

"More than last year," she replies, "which was none, because it was my first year, and I didn't understand how electives worked. Hey, maybe when you come to U of S next year, we can take an elective together. It'll be better doing group projects with someone who can't skip group meetings, because I know where you live."

"I'm not even sure if I'm going to university next year," I stop her. 

I'm not sure at all what I want to do. The idea that me, a 16 year-old kid, is supposed to make a decision about his whole life before February when the application deadlines for universities start rolling in is shocking to me. I could hardly decide what to eat for breakfast this morning. I ended up mixing Cheerios with Shreddies in one bowl. That kind of indecisiveness won't work for a career, but I have no idea what I want to do in the future. 

"Well, that's okay," Amber says. "The next year we can."

I let her assume that, even though I don't know if I'll know what I want by then either. A lot has changed in my life in just the past month, and what I once thought I'd be doing now is not at all the reality. What if I do make plans and then things change again? Will I be stuck living with a choice I regret? 

My phone busses on the carpet beside me, and I pick it up, seeing the main cause of all the recent change in my life flashing on my phone in the form of a text. 

**Reed:** Hey, man. Lester and I are taking our dirt bikes out once I'm finished at the food bank. You gonna come?

Almost four weeks ago, Reed did something really stupid. I mean, he always did stupid things before that too, like skipping class, getting high after school, and riding his bike on property he shouldn't have been on, and I wasn't exactly innocent of those things either. Reed, Lester and I were thick as thieves—sometimes literally, depending on the day. But then Reed took his dad's gun once to shoot watermelons with, and he was caught. Now he's serving 180 hours of community service. 

I was no hero in all of this. I wasn't the one who came forward, but after that, I haven't been able to just hang out with my friends like nothing happened. I guess the reality of the fact that life isn't just a game where I can mess up and simply retry became very apparent. Life is a game without a back button or a set of instructions, and I'm still here trying to figure out what the objective is. I used to think Reed and Lester would be able to help me with that, or maybe I just thought it was better to be around other confused people, but either way, I don't think the way I used to anymore. I've tried getting Reed and Lester to see my perspective, but they just don't. 

Lately, I've been limiting the times I've seen them, because I don't think I want to. That's why I've found myself going to other places to find people and things that feel right to me. I've met a decent amount of people too since then, but none of them are as close with me now as I used to be with Reed and Lester, and it's hard for me not having them to talk to, mostly about the things that my family doesn't know. Although they were no angels, they did always accept me right from the start, something I'm not sure my family would do if I were honest with them.

 **Me:** I don't think I'll come today, but you guys have fun.

As I finish sending the message, a knock sounds on my doorframe, and both my sister and I look up to see our dad there. 

"What do you kids wants for dinner?" he asks us. 

"Um, I'll eat whatever TJ wants," Amber replies. 

The eyes go to me, but I'm about to disappoint them.

"I'm actually not going to be here for dinner," I say. "I'm going out."

"Not with Reed and Lester, I hope," my dad responds, looking concerned. 

"No," I answer. "Someone else that I met recently."

A smile sneaks out from my memories of meeting the neighbour, and my dad seems to notice it. 

"Wait," he says. "Do you mean going out as in a date? You never mentioned a girl before."

I never mentioned a girl, because it's not a girl. But I can't say that. Why? Well, if you look just above my doorway, you can see a plain white cross, similar to the ones over nearly every doorway in the house. I know just because my family is religious that that doesn't mean they'll necessarily be unaccepting toward me, but I'm also afraid to poke it and find out. My parents haven't explicitly even touched the subject of any LGBTQ+ issues in a long time, so I have no idea what they'd think, but I do remember them making an effort to change the station when "Same Love" by Macklemore, Ryan Lewis, and Mary Lambert came on the radio when I was younger. 

When it comes to my siblings, well, most of them are out of the house, so I have no intention of telling them until they receive an invitation to my wedding that they could either accept or decline. With Amber, it's different, since I live with her, but I don't know her views on this topic, and I'm afraid that, if she shares the same ones as my parents, she might tell them, and then my fear of change will come flooding in all at once. So I just stay quiet, and I nod my head when my dad smiles at the idea of me being interested in a girl. 

"Uh, yeah," I say, trying to sound as sincere as possibly. "Yeah, it's a girl."

"Okay, well, be home by ten," my dad says. 

He gives Amber and I both another smile before stepping out of the room. Once he's gone, I look to my sister. 

"Hey, can you let dad know not to worry when I'm not home by ten?"

She lets out a laugh, responding, "Sure thing. You're planning on being late?"

"Well, I'm not coming home at ten," I say. 

"This girl must be quite something," Amber concludes. "She pretty? What's she like?"

I think for a moment of how to answer that before replying, "Very attractive. Very cute. Likes to pretend to read."

Amber furrows her brows. "Pretend?"

"Anyway, that's about all I'm going to tell you," I say, brushing off her confusion. "Now what other courses are you looking at?"

Amber takes the bait immediately, turning the conversation away from my love life back to her school life. While she's listing off more course names, I'm glancing back at my closet. It's not visible at the moment, but behind the clothes, there's a tiny paper rainbow flag taped to the wall. I've always wanted a big pride flag for my room, but right now, this is as good as I can have, and I guess I'm content with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! You guys have no idea how long it took me to just plan this chapter. I knew what I wanted in a general scope and where it needed to take me, but I couldn't figure out the pieces and how they would fit together to be different than what I've already done in the past. Anyway, I'm fairly happy with how this turned out, so I hope you all liked it. This was basically just TJ's introduction, so the rest of the chapters won't be this static. Other than that, here's the question of the day: what's something you've always wanted to decorate your room with or like, but you haven't yet? I love you. Good night!


	4. Chapter 4

**Cyrus's POV**

I step outside to see a boy in a white, Rush band T-shirt and jeans leaning against a BMW M3 Lightweight. I only know that car name because Jonah's had an obsession over them lately. The body of the car is white and overall pretty boxy, but the unique part is the blue, purple and red checkers around the right headlight. I've never seen one of them before in real life, and although I'm not quaking in awe, I'm positive Jonah would be. 

"This is your car?" I say as I get up to it. 

TJ smiles and spins to gaze at his vehicle the way I am. "Well, if by mine you mean bought for two grand from my brother who bought it from my cousin for nine grand, then yes, it's mine."

"So it's been well-loved," I summarize.

"I mean, it's probably got, like, twenty miles left before crapping out on me," TJ replies.

"Maybe it's time for a new car," I suggest with a laugh.

"Oh, it's definitely time for a new car," TJ agrees. "But I live on the edge."

The two of us laugh. 

"For some reason I imagined you'd be a blue Chevy truck kind of guy," I comment. 

"I'm actually saving up for one of those," TJ responds. "But first I kinda need a job."

"Did you have a job before?" I ask, wondering how he pays for gas. 

"Yeah, but I was…uh…I stopped working there."

Clearly, there's more to that story, but although I'm very curious to know it, and I'm no stranger to digging into the deepest depths of the people I just meet, I choose to hold off on this one. There will hopefully be plenty of time to ask him about that in the future. 

"Uh, hop in," TJ says after a second. 

I smile and curve around to the passenger's side to get comfy in the seat, and TJ settles into the driver's seat. Immediately, I'm wondering if maybe he speeds and that's part of why my dad doesn't like him. I would argue that that's not the best judge of character. Jonah drives like a mad man, but that's just because he has the strong belief that driving in Grand Theft Auto 5 and driving in real life "really aren't that different." Because of that, I'm used to gripping the overhead handle tight white the car is in motion. Somehow he's still never gotten a ticket. 

"Where are we going?" I ask. 

TJ just shrugs. "Who knows?"

The car's engine basically cries as it's kicked into action, and I'm surprised when TJ steers out smoothly into the centre of the road, staying at a good three miles per hour over the speed limit. It's still speeding. but it's not Jonah-speeding. 

The houses on Citrus Avenue are bathed in the glow of the dimming summer sun, and I gaze at them and their colourful flowerbeds that are tinted pink under the changing sky. The beautiful part of summer is that no matter what time of day it is, it's always warm, and I can walk home in the dark without needing a coat. However, I've never actually stayed out later than nine at my dad's house before, so I've never had to walk home at night, and today will not be a first. I've already gotten comfortable on the black and red-speckled seat, and I don't plan on getting home without it. 

"So tell me about you," TJ says. 

Most people have preplanned introduction lines that they can bring up when making first impressions, but I've never been able to pinpoint the important things to include in my own. That leaves me struggling every time someone asks me about myself. What do I start with? What's important? What's too weird or too boring?

"Is there anything in particular you want to know?" I ask.

"Let's start with what school you go to."

"Grant High," I answer. "Going into grade twelve in September."

"Sylvia Rivera High," TJ says for himself. "Also grade twelve."

"Hmm. Does that make us rivals?" I question. "Your football team did lose to ours."

He puts on a sly grin, saying, "Yeah, well, our boys' basketball team beat yours."

"I only watched the girls' basketball games, so I wouldn't know. My friend's on the team."

"That's cool. I'm on the team at my school."

"Really? Are you any good?"

"Well, maybe you'll be enticed to come to one of the games this year, and you can judge for yourself."

He glances at me, and I can't help but give in to the fuzzy feeling that pulls my smile up. I've never met anyone like him before, someone able to make me feel weak with just a look, but I can't say I'm opposed to it. 

"Do you play any sports?" TJ asks. 

"I was an honorary member of my middle school's ultimate Frisbee team," I reply.

"Why honorary?" 

"I basically just gave them water and snacks," I explain. "I also rode a skateboard for about five minutes, but that landed me in the hospital, so I don't skateboard anymore. I guess every good athlete's career comes to an end eventually."

TJ chuckles, and I feel proud for being able to make him laugh. I'm not usually considered funny, and it's nice to have someone see me a bit differently for a change.

Soon, we pull over by the entrance to a bike path. TJ takes the keys out of the ignition and unclips his seatbelt to get out of his car. I do the same, and he comes around to join me on the sidewalk after locking his car. 

An opening in the wooden fence reveals the concrete bike path which branches off from he sidewalk blocks, becoming quickly immersed in trees and grass up two feet high. I've never been to this part of the park before. I've only been to the ridge by my dad's house. 

"We're here?" I wonder.

"Almost," he says. "Follow me."

He waves for me to come, and I join him, walking alongside as he starts into the forestry. Cracks in the cement bump up from the ground like mini molehills, creating frequent tripping hazards. That makes me pay attention to where I'm stepping, forcing me to neglect the nature around me. For a moment, I consider that he could be taking me out into the woods to kill me, but the way he walks close enough to me that his arm grazes mine and gives me butterflies sends the idea away as soon as it comes. 

As we get farther and time passes, I begin to wonder if he even knows where we're going, but then I see a small wooden bridge appear through the trees. Fencing lines the path to my left, leading up to the bridge, dividing the safety of the path from the uncertainty of the thin stream beneath the planks. 

"You ever been here?" TJ asks me. 

"Nope," I say. "This is pretty far from my house."

"Well, it's worth it," he says. "I promise." 

He continues forward onto the bridge, but in the middle, he stops and begins climbing the railing, swinging his legs over the barrier that's supposed to keep him safe. He stands on the outside of the bridge, holding on to the railing, and I just look at him, confused. 

"You coming?" he asks?"

"Coming where?" I question. 

TJ flashes me a smile then jumps backward. I gasp and hurry to look over the bridge to make sure he's okay. It turns out that the fall isn't that high. It's only a couple metres. TJ stands on a small patch of land in the middle of the stream, gazing up at me with a smile.

"Uh, I'm pretty sure my mom told me that if my friends jump off a bridge, I shouldn't," I shout to him. 

"Well, you did only meet me today," TJ reasons. "Do I already count as your friend?"

With that point brought up, I'm thinking maybe we can skip the friends stage anyway. 

"Okay," I call back. 

I climb over, feeling immediately out of my comfort zone, but when I turn around, I see TJ's arm reaching up for me. I crouch down and take his hand, a rush of both security and exhilaration washing through me, like strapping into a roller coaster, minus the throwing up. TJ's hand guides my drop and I leap down onto the grass where he stands. I stumble a little on the dirt, but TJ grabs my other hand, holding me upright, and I feel my pulse writing a speedcore song in my chest. 

"You good?" he asks. 

I stare up at him, wanting to wait for my adrenaline to slow before I respond, but as long as he's touching me, that's not going to happen, so I just nod. 

He chuckles a little and steps back, letting me go. I'm impressed with the way he seamlessly steps off the island and onto each dry stone sticking out from the stream. He has this path memorized, I can tell. I have to keep my eyes downward as I follow him over the waterway. 

I only look up when I see TJ stop moving, and that's when I realize that the trees have disappeared ahead of us, and this is where the stream drains over the edge of the land, falling out into the yellow sky. An endless span of land stretches out before me. I guess this must be the edge of Shadyside, because not a single house or road is within sight. 

TJ lowers down onto a giant stone at the edge of the cliff, and I go over to sit beside him. He glances to me once before moving his eyes back out to the dazzling view.

"Now we're here," he says. 

I take in a breath of the air. Although I'm sure it's all in my head, it feels cleaner. Maybe that's just the smell of the stream and the plants around me. 

"How did you find this place?" I wonder. 

"I just kept walking one day," TJ says, "and eventually I ended up here."

"Whenever I go places, I usually know where I'm going."

"Yeah, well, I never know where I'm going."

"I don't think I could do that. I like being able to choose where I end up."

"That's why I like this," TJ responds. "If I don't know where I'm going, then there's no choice to make. Things just happen, and if bad things happen, well, there's no way I could've stopped that."

"So you don't like when something happens that you know you could've changed if you had just done something different." 

TJ pauses a second before speaking again, but he doesn't address my assumption. 

"I'll tell you what I do like," he says. "I like the way the water is always flowing here, no matter what; I like sitting here with the whole world in front of me; and I kind of like sitting here with you."

He turns his gaze to me, and I can hear the song in my heartbeat take over my breath, then the chills in my spine, then my brain, and finally, my actions. The space between us vanishes in an instant as I press my lips to his, and he puts his hand on my jaw, only letting me move farther into him. I don't usually kiss on the first date, but this boy is an exception. Something about him—okay, everything about him—tells me to let him claim me as his own, and I don't have the will-power to disobey the demand. 

If my father knew what I was doing right now, I know he'd be furious. But breaking his one rule just feels too good to stop. 

_______________________________________

When I get home, I'm grinning like an idiot. My parents stop me as I pass by the living room where they're watching _Love Is Blind_ together on the television. 

"Hi, Cyrus," my dad says. "How was your walk?"

I put all my energy into suppressing my smile to keep them from asking more questions.

"It was great," I reply. "But I'm tired, so I'm going to go to bed."

"Alright," Sharon says. "Have a good night."

"Night," I echo. 

As soon as I get up to my bedroom and close the door, I let out all my excitement in the form of a giggle as I fall back on my bed. I have plans to see TJ again tomorrow, and I cannot wait. I just wonder how long I'll be able to hide this secret from my parents for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovelies! I very very VERY much love this chapter. I really really REALLY hope you all liked it too. I have the whole story finally planned out, so I should be quicker with updating now, especially since I only have two stories at the moment. Also, I know I said I would be writing a Wonah story next, which I still plan to do, but I'm likely going to be writing it either after or while writing an Irby story, because I had an idea, and I really cannot let it go to waste. Since I'm updating you all on my plans, I have an idea for a Rina story, which I'm probably going to start in a month or two. Anyway, my question for you all is what one one lie you told to your parents that you definitely didn't regret?


	5. Chapter 5

**TJ's POV**   
  
  


"Why do you look so happy?" Amber questions.

Amber and I have a Jack-and-Jill bathroom connecting the two of our bedrooms, so she's able to easily pass into my room without going into the hall. Usually, I don't mind it, but right now, it catches me off guard, for I'm in the midst of reliving the daydream that was also my reality. 

"Am I not allowed to be happy?" I snipe. 

"Shit, okay. I just mean I haven't seen you this cheery in a while."

She leans against the doorframe to the washroom, her arms folded over her chest. She's right though. I haven't been this happy since long before things started going downhill with Reed and Lester and my grades and my sleep and, well, everything. Cyrus is something new, and not just new. He's something good, something I can look forward to that won't land me in a police station if I'm not careful. 

"I just had a good day. That's all," I say.

Amber nods. "Okay, well, then I'll leave you alone with your good day."

She steps out of my room, pulling the door shut, and I suddenly feel a loneliness sprinkle the space. I wish I could be honest with her, but I'm scared. I'm scared I'll lose my sister if I am. 

I stand up and go toward my closet. I divide the hangers with shirts and see the tiny rainbow flag stuck to the wall. Making sure not to rip the edges, I peel the tape off the wall and bring the flag out and over to the bulletin board above my dresser where I stick a thumbtack through it to pin it up. It hangs there, so quiet yet so loud. It threatens to change my entire life the second its seen. How can such a simple thing be so bold?

I take the paper down from the board and return it back to its home in my closet. I'm not ready to let my life change that way yet. 

_______________________________________

One of the most amazing things about nature is how trees understand the concept of personal space, a quality that makes them better than many humans. Their branches won't extend into another tree nearby. Instead, they form a maze of bareness between the leaves of each tree, allowing each other room to exist and breathe. 

Cyrus and I are the exact opposite of that now as we stare up at the branches from where we lie on the dirt. Our heads are beside each other, but our legs extend in different directions. Keeping us connected, his hand is intertwined with mine, our own kind of inosculation as two branches that should've always been together. 

Sunlight peers through the breaks between the trees, beaming down in lines on the soil. One ray crosses Cyrus's eyes, and while he squints, I'm busy staring at him, thinking about how beautiful he is. Even while he continues talking, it's all I can think about. 

"So in conclusion, if anyone ever tells your you're girly, check first to see if they have auto-correct turned on."

When I don't respond, he tilts his head to me and smiles. 

"What?" he wonders. 

Rather than answer verbally, I push myself off the ground and shift myself to so that I can bend down and kiss him. The rush of dopamine stirs through me, and when I lift up, Cyrus is left smiling. 

"I see," Cyrus says. "That's what."

I laugh, and he does the same. After falling down on my back, I lock my hand with his again.

"Can I ask you a question?" Cyrus says after a moment. 

"Depends on the question," I reply. 

"My dad isn't particularly fond of you," he starts. "Is there a reason for that?"

Yes. Yes, there are many reasons, although I don't think any of them directly tie to him. The problem is our neighbourhood is a talkative one, and I'm sure Mr. Goodman's heard all about me from Ms. Charlin, the old lady who has nothing better to do that keep up on all the gossip, or Mr. and Mrs. Baker, Reed's nosy next-door neighbours. He's probably been told about how I'm a pathetic excuse for a person, or how I couldn't do school, so I just skipped it, or how I hang out with kids who play with guns. But those things aren't me anymore. It hasn't even been a full month since the turning point, but I really feel like a different person, and I want Cyrus to know me as I am now, not as I was before. 

"Um…I used to be kind of…a mess." 

Cyrus listens quietly, waiting for me to continue. I don't want to, but I guess I should. 

"I've made a lot of really stupid choices," I explain. "I didn't know who I was. I mean, I still don't, but I know I'm not that. I'm not bad, or at least I don't want to be."

"You're not bad," Cyrus assures me. 

"You don't know me that well yet."

"I may be stereotyping, but I've never ever heard of a bad person who plays the piano before."

I smile and squeeze his hand a little, which he reacts to by bringing our linked hands up to rest on his chest. I'm not sure if it's real or imagined, but I feel his heartbeat against my skin, and it calms my nerves, giving me the confidence to go on. 

"I didn't just stop working at my last job," I say. "I was fired. I let my dumbass friends into the restaurant after close, and they basically raided the place. I had to lie to cover for them, so I said I left it unlocked, and they fired me. Honestly, I deserved it."

"So what changed?" Cyrus wonders. "Why did you change?"

"Well, that has to do with my friends again. I'm not sure why I'm even calling them my friends. I've been trying to avoid them since it happened. One of my friends took his dad's gun and brought it to our hangout. I got off clean, because I left right away, but he's doing community service, and I'm now known as the best friend of the kid who took his dad's gun to shoot watermelons with."

There's a moment of silence, but Cyrus doesn't let go of my hand, something that keeps me feeling stable. 

Eventually, he says, "You know I was arrested once."

I look over at him in disbelief. "No way. Cyrus Goody-Goody Goodman was arrested?"

"Yup," he confirms. 

"For what?"

"My friends and I stole a bunch of clothes from a clothing manufacturer's garbage and gave them out for free to people on the street."

I let out a laugh. "Of course. You were arrested for being Robin Hood."

"Well, what's the worst thing you've done?" he asks. "I doubt it can be that bad."

"Nah. You won't like me if I told you."

"Try me."

I sigh. "Okay, um… I've also stolen. I was suspended once for nearly lighting a fire in a trashcan. I've done all kinds of drugs and shit. I haven't killed anyone, though."

"Hmm." Cyrus sits up and looks down on me. "I still like you."

His lips on mine relaxes my tense muscle in an instant, but that ends when my phone dings, and Cyrus pulls back. I'm already mad enough that the text interrupted our moment, but I'm even more irritated when I see who it's from. 

**Reed:** You free today?

I respond quickly with just one word.

 **Me:** Busy.

Unfortunately, Cyrus is already back to lying down, staring up at the leaves overhead, so I return to doing the same. 

"So now that you're not bad," Cyrus says, "what are some things that the good you does?"

"Well, I got really into playing piano again lately, something I hadn't done since middle school. I also started going to climate strikes."

"You go to climate strikes?" he says in surprise. 

"Yeah. I started three weeks ago, and now I'm part of the group. Fridays For Future Shadyside."

"That's so awesome!"

"I just decided I wanted to start using my voice for something good," I explain. "We strike every Friday at the town hall. You could come if you want."

"Joining my bad boy boyfriend with saving the environment? I'd love to."

I don't mention the fact that he just called me his boyfriend, for I don't want him to take it back. The word boyfriend fits so nicely in my mind next to his image. I have no objections to him using it to describe me. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another one for y'all. Anyway, I'm secretly promoting climate strikes. I am a part of the Fridays For Future for my city, and I want to let you all know that most of the world is striking online for now until the virus isn't an issue anymore. Post your photos of your and your climate sign online with the hashtag #climatestrikeonline on Friday to join the force! That's all I have to say. I need to sleep. My classes are slowly getting moved to being online, and I'm kinda stressed about it. I just hope I can learnt he material well enough still, and I hope online finals are easy enough. Okay, now that's all. Good night!


	6. Chapter 6

**Cyrus's POV**

I've never been to a climate strike before, but I've seen the movement through social media. I also follow Greta Thunberg and Luke Mullen on Twitter, so I've heard a fair bit about the climate change issues, but I've never seen it in person. 

TJ holds his cardboard sign in one hand and my hand in the other as he leads me across the downtown street and back onto the sidewalk. Downtown in Shadyside isn't busy like the cities, but it's still busy for Shadyside. People zip around as though their always late, and if they're talking on the phone, they don't even notice when I bump into them accidentally, which makes my constant need to apologize pretty pointless. TJ glances at me with a cute grin every time that happens. 

"I'm just being polite," I justify. 

"You don't come downtown much, do you?" he responds with a chuckle.

I brush it off and continue alongside him down the concrete, eventually seeing what we came here for.

I imagined Shadyside's strike would look a lot like the massive ones in Washington and Berlin and Ottawa, but this is much smaller. There are only about forty people gathered on the steps of town hall, each holding a sign. Most of the people here are teenagers, but a few are older adults. Actually, there's a group of four seniors all in knitted cardigans and patchwork dresses, looking a lot like dolls dressed by a toddler. They hold signs with a logo for a group called The Raging Grannies, which I assume must be them. 

"Where is—?"

"The movement is a lot smaller in Shadyside," TJ explains before I can finish my question. 

One of the people there, a girl, probably in her late teens, gives TJ a wave as we walk up. She wears a beret that covers the divide between her half blonde, half magenta hairstyle that sits as a bob on her shoulders. Leaning on the planter behind her is a large, black portfolio case. 

"Hey, TJ," the girl says.

"Hi, Leilani. Um, this is Cyrus."

Leilani smiles at me right away, saying, "Nice of you to join us in crushing capitalism."

I chuckle, and she gestures to the portfolio. 

"Feel free to grab a sign. We have lots."

"Thanks."

I go over and look through the folder at each of the signs, settling on one that says 'Honk if you support climate action!' 

"That one's bent on the corner," TJ informs me. 

I spot what he's talking about but reply, "It's been well-loved. I want to make sure it knows that it's still loved, no matter its age."

That makes TJ smile. "You're so soft."

He brings his arm over my shoulder to pull me into him, and I follow along easily. 

"Says the guy who plays love songs on the piano," I mutter. 

"Hey," he says. "We don't talk about my weakness in public."

"Being soft isn't the same as being weak," I argue. 

He smiles and brings his lips close to my hear to whisper, "No, but you make me weak."

It looks like he's about to kiss me when another face comes up, steering his intention away. This teenager looks younger than us, but they wear a full blue business suit as though they're the CEO of a company. 

"Hi," they say. "I wanted to introduce myself. I'm Skyler."

"Cyrus," I say, shaking their hand when they offer it. 

"Skyler is part of media team with me," TJ explains. "Along with Daniel, Ranger, and the other Skylar, but her name is spelt with an 'A' instead of an 'E.'"

"Wait so what team is Leilani on?" I wonder. 

"Oh, she just runs this whole thing," TJ answers. "She's on every team and every team is her."

"I see. So what kind of things do you do on media team?" I ask.

"Well, most recently, we're promoting the clothing swap that's happening in a few weeks," Skyler says. "You should come. Bring some old clothes of yours. Take some old clothes of other people's."

"Definitely," I reply. "I'll be there."

Skyler smiles, but that's interrupted by another voice.

"Okay!" shouts Leilani to the crowd around her. "Who's ready to chant?"

The group gives approval, and the girl starts leading a chant, which I echo back with TJ.

_______________________________________

Buffy, Andi and Jonah all sit on the furniture in my dad and step-mom's half-finished basement. From where I'm perched on the couch, the bare beams and concrete ground isn't visible, because the side I'm facing has drywall and carpet. That just happens to cut off right behind me. All my friends listen with complete focus as I blabber on about TJ, checking the stairs frequently to make sure my parents aren't coming down. 

"He's so sweet and attractive and thoughtful," I gush, "and did I mention attractive—like, really attractive."

"He sounds fantastic," Andi says.

"He really is," I reply. 

"Now if only I could find a boyfriend," Jonah comments. 

That sends Andi into a rant. "Jonah Matthew Beck, I've told you this so many times! You're not allowed to complain about not having a boyfriend if you're not going to do anything about it!"

"Why not? You complain about not having a girlfriend all the time."

"Yes, but I at least try to flirt."

"Complimenting her haircut then leaving is not flirting," Jonah responds. 

"It's lesbian culture," Andi argues. "You wouldn't understand."

"But you're not a lesbian."

Andi's head falls back on the pillow behind her. "I like to forget that I like boys, 'cause ew."

"Hey, boys aren't that bad," Buffy chimes in. 

"Because you have an amazing boyfriend who loves and cherishes you," Andi refutes. "My last boyfriend broke up with me and then proceeded to ask me to pay him back for the birthday gift he gave me."

"Yeah, well, some girls are bad too," Buffy says. "Did you forget about Kira?"

"Please don't bring her up," Andi pleads. "Worst mistake of my life."

"Yeah, Kira was a bitch," I agree, "by far my least favorite of all your exes."

"You know what?" Andi says, sitting up, her feet tucked under her cross-legged knees. "I'm swearing off dating. It's too complicated."

"Andi," Buffy responds, "we both know that's only going to last until another girl smiles at you."

"Nope. I'm not going to break. I have will-power."

"Since when?" Buffy chuckles.

"Cool," Jonah says to Andi. "I'll do the same."

"No, you won't," Andi snaps back. "You will ask Walker out, and you two will be the cutest fucking couple there is."

"I beg to differ," I mutter, smiling to myself. 

"We haven't met TJ yet," Andi says, "so I'll need to see for myself how cute you two are."

"I'll see about setting up a time for you all to meet him," I say. 

"I'm down," Jonah replies. 

"And I'm hungry," Andi announces, standing up from her chair. "I would help myself, but I don't know where the stuff is in your kitchen."

"That's okay," I say with a laugh. "I'll go get us some snacks."

"Thank you!" the girl calls as I head for the stairs. 

On the main floor, the sound of the television buzzes from the living room. As I pass by, my dad notices me and haults me by talking.

"How are your friends?" he asks. 

"Uh, they're fine," I answer.

"I'm sure you're glad to have them over," he goes on. "You've been spending a lot of time out on your own, so this must be a nice change."

It takes my mind a second to understand that, but then it clicks. Every time I've been out with TJ, I've said I was alone. My dad probably thinks I'm incredibly introverted. Either that or just very good at entertaining myself.

"Uh, yeah," I say. "Yeah, it's nice."

I'm about to go for the kitchen when he stops me with one more thing. 

"Hey, Citrusdale apparently has this annual potluck in the park as a community thing. It's coming up soon, and I hope you'll be willing to come. There's lots of good food, and I've been told there's a big game of horseshoes."

"Of course," I say. "Sounds fun."

Sounds like something I'll want to hang out with TJ at, but obviously I won't be able to do that. Guess this will be a true test of my ability to keep up this lie. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I've been trying to write this for two days, but I kept getting distracted, so I've finally got it done, and I'm happy. Anyway, have a lovely day. Please stay safe, stay at home, stay happy and healthy. I know this can be a tough time since many of you are closeted and stuck at home with family. For my Canadian friends, here are some numbers for you. LGBT Youth Line: 1-800-2689688. Trans lifeline: 1-877-330-6366. Kids help phone: 1-800-668-6868 (you can text them by texting CONNECT to 686868). Distress Centre: 1-403-266-1601. For my American friends, here are yours. Trevor Project: 1-866-488-7386. Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255. Suicide Hotline: 1-800-784-8433. Depression Hotline: 1-630-482-9696. Also, if anyone needs to talk to someone, my stories and profile are always safe places. Anyway, that's all. Have a lovely day.


	7. Chapter 7

**TJ's POV**

My mom peeks her head into my room, and I look up from my book. 

"Hey, Teej," she says, "your friends are here to see you."

If she were using the singular word, I would've assumed it was Cyrus, but she used the plural. Who would come to see me? None of my newer friends know where I live. That means it must be…

Reed and Lester stand on the front porch of my house. Wanting to keep outside the argument I know we're about to have, I step out to join them, sealing the door behind me. As I turn to face them, I fold my arms over my chest and hold my chin up, trying to look more confident than I am. 

"Dude," Reed says. "What's going on with you?"

"Yeah," Lester chimes in. "Every time we've asked you to hang out lately, you've turned us down, and seeing as you're at home now, you're clearly not always busy like you say you are."

"I'm just…" I let out a huff and drop my arms open. "I just need space."

"Space from us," Reed puts together. "What the fuck? Why?"

"You're seriously asking me why I don't want to be around you? Reed, you're doing community service for taking your dad's gun, and everybody thinks you're just a screw-up who's going to end up in jail."

"You're no angel either!"

"I know!" I yell back. "But I'm doing something different than you. I'm trying! I don't want to fuck up my life before I even live it. I'm sorry that you don't care, but I do, and I don't want to be seen as teenage garbage anymore. I don't want to see myself as fucking garbage. I want to be better."

"So you're just not gonna talk to us anymore," Reed summarizes. Then he shakes his head and scoffs, "Whatever, man. Good luck with your new life."

He turns a shoulder and starts down the porch, and Lester follows. I consider whether I should try to stop them. Maybe I should shout and try to say something more, but what would I even say? I meant everything I said. I didn't lie. 

As they walk away toward their dirt bikes, which they definitely shouldn't be driving on the road, I watch for another moment. After Reed flips me off and zooms away with Lester, I turn to go inside, feeling just as awful as before the whole conversation. I thought confessing things was supposed to make people feel better. Apparently that's not always the case. 

________________________________________

Walking with Cyrus feels nice after the collapse of my old friendships earlier this week. His hand clasped through mine gives me a sense of security that I've been needing a lot lately. He's been letting me settle the events, but as we're nearing the diner where we're supposed to meet his friends together for the first time, he asks once more to check that I'm okay. 

"Yeah," I reply. "I just want to forget about Reed and Lester. Now, how do I look?"

I stop and turn to face him. He scans my khakis and T-shirt again, giving me the same sweet smile that I love. 

"The same as when you asked me at your house," he answers. "Handsome as ever."

"I just want to make sure I make a good first impression on your friends."

"You'll make a great impression," he assures me. "You're amazing."

"Yeah, well, you might be biased."

He grins. "Just a bit."

He brings one hand up to my cheek as he rises onto his tip toes to kiss me. There's a pause after he backs away before he comes back to give me one more for good luck. 

With that final action, he takes my hand again and leads me on toward the diner. It's a small business on a street of shops just outside of Citrusdale. Red curtains frame the windows from the inside, and I can see the caramel-coloured booth seats through the glass. I used to come here a lot with Reed and Lester. It's a very popular hangout place for kids on this end of town. 

We enter in, and a bell chimes. Right away, Cyrus spots his friends and pulls me over to the table where they're sitting. At the table is one girl with dark brown hair almost down to her shoulders and a headband that looks like it's been decorated with colourful duct tape. Beside her is another girl, this one with curly hair tied in a ponytail, and a boy with a smile that reminds me of a stock photo for the word 'friendly.' 

"Hey," the short-haired girl says. "You must be TJ."

"That's me," I respond, sitting down in the chair next to Cyrus. 

"TJ, this is Andi, Buffy and Jonah," Cyrus tells me. 

"It's so good to finally meet you," Buffy joins in. "Cyrus has told us so much about you."

I look over to see Cyrus blushing in embarrassment, but I just think it's cute, so I push it further by saying, "You talk about me?"

He moves his eyes to me, his face beet red as he says, "Well, yeah."

That makes me smile so big, but I do my best to keep my mouth sealed. 

"Well, damn it, Cyrus," Andi says. "You were right. You two are the most adorable couple ever."

I could've said I thought we were highly adorable before, but that would've been a subjective statement. This is confirmation that Cyrus and I are objectively adorable by all standards. 

"So I hear you play piano," Jonah speaks up.

"Uh, yeah, a bit," I say. 

"That's cool. I play guitar."

Andi gasps, grabbing all the attention toward her. "You two should, like, jam together, or whatever you call it, sometime."

Jonah glances to me with a smile, saying, "I'm down."

"Hell, yeah," I agree. "You know any Rolling Stones?"

"Of course."

We both naturally reach for a fist bump, and Cyrus watches us back and forth, finishing with his eyes on me, grinning wide. He doesn't have to explain his joy, for I feel it too. Now that his friends seem to like me, I feel my nerves relax, and I let myself fall into the conversation without too much thought. 

Later, as we're finishing up our meals, Jonah shoves his food with his fork. Buffy looks over at him and lets out a chuckle.

"You don't like your adult tater?" she questions with a smirk. 

"I thought it'd be like baby taters," Jonah replies. "I didn't expect it to be just a single, giant-ass tater tot on a plate."

"Okay, it is just me," Andi starts, "or does this place seem like some weird alternate dimension version of The Spoon?"

"Maybe it just feels similar, 'cause it's also a diner," Jonah suggests. 

"No. It's called The Fork," Buffy states. "It's similar, because it's similar."

Suddenly, my attention is stolen by the waitress walking up to our table. Cyrus notices my shock and looks back to see her too, but he's never met her. He's only heard of her. Her presence makes being around Cyrus a lot more complicated. I just hope no one at our tables mentions anything about our relationship while she's within hearing range.

"Hey, TJ," Amber says. "You didn't say you were coming here."

"You didn't say you worked here," I counter. 

"It's literally my second shift," she says, "and you never asked."

"What happened to our other server?" I question. 

"Taran's shift ended," Amber says. "I hope you won't mind having your sister here to give you your cheques."

"Oh, this is Amber?" Cyrus says, putting the pieces together. "Hi, I'm Cyrus."

"He's my friend," I add before he can say anything else. 

While Amber doesn't question that, Cyrus glances to me with the realization of what's going on. Thankfully, he plays along and makes no effort to undermine my lie.

"Cool, well, I'm assuming you're all paying separately?" Amber responds. 

I was actually planning to pay for Cyrus, but I nod anyway, and Amber walks off toward the counter by the kitchen. 

"She doesn't know?" Cyrus guesses.

"Nope," I answer. 

I feel a little ashamed, but Cyrus makes me feel better by saying, "My dad thinks I'm spending all my time alone on nature walks."

I laugh, and his soft smile sends warmth sparkling through me. 

A second later, my sister returns with five slips of paper and begins dispersing them out to their correct owners. While I add a tip on the debit machine, I notice Andi across the table bending over to fix her jean cuffs before taking the other machine from Amber to pay. Once everybody's finished paying, Amber takes back the machines.

"Thanks for coming," she says to us. "I hope to see you again."

Her eyes flicker over in Andi's direction at the end of her sentence, and the brunette girl gives a subtle smile. My sister turns to leave, and our whole table gets up to exit. As soon as I get outside, I slide my fingers through Cyrus's, happy to be able to do this again. 

Meanwhile, Buffy is looking at Andi with stern eyes, saying, "Andi—"

"I just think she was just pretty," Andi cuts her off. "That's all."

"My sister?" I interrupt, thinking I've realized what they're talking about.

"Who? No," Andi replies, her face going pink. Then she changes the subject. "Hey, that cloud looks like a starfish."

Suddenly, a shout makes us all stop and turn around to see my sister running up to us. 

"Excuse me! I'm sorry," Amber says. "Your transaction didn't go through."

Andi points to herself in question, and Amber nods. After giving Buffy a quick look of confusion, Andi goes over to follow my sister back into the diner. A few minutes later, the brunette returns with a grin on her face. I guess they must've become friends while in there. 

"What's with the smile?" Buffy inquires. 

"Oh, nothing," Andi replies, still beaming. "TJ, your sister is very nice."

"Yeah," I say, a little confused. "I know."

Andi simply raises her chin a little and begins walking on ahead, and the rest of us continue down the sidewalk behind her. She seems strangely happy, but I also haven't known her for long. Maybe this is normal for her. Maybe her and my sister did just become good friends in the few minutes they were talking inside. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hola! Now that I'm done KAAFF, I'm going to be focusing on this story and Snapdragon. Once I'm done those, I do have another book lined up after Wonah, and I'm so insanely excited about it. I have too many ideas for keep up with, and that's sad sometimes, cause I wish I could be constantly writing all the time, but I guess I have to be patient. Anyway, have a lovely day, lovelies.


	8. Chapter 8

**Cyrus's POV**

I've been to this park several times now this summer, but almost always with TJ. The difference now is that I see TJ talking with his family on the other side of the lawn, but I can't go over to him. I've only been here for five minutes, but I'm already feeling the restlessness hit me. My body wants to be with his, but my brain tries to distract it by helping my dad organize the trays of appetizers on the picnic table. 

I recognize many of the folks here. All of them are from Citrusdale, although I've met very few personally. I do recall the faces of a few running kids, for I played hopscotch with them when I walked by a few days ago. They were in the midst of finishing drawing their chalk course, and they wanted me to be the first to test it. Of course, I couldn't possibly say no. TJ didn't mind me being late to meet him that day. He knew that I couldn't let myself disappoint those excited children. 

I finish placing the tray of danishes that my step-mom made on the table, and then I turn to my dad, looking for more work to keep me occupied.

"Anything else you want help with?" I ask. 

"You've helped a lot," Dad answers. "Why don't you go talk with some of the other kids your age. Make some friends."

He goes over to join my step-mom by the couple barbecuing shish kabobs on a tiny park grill. Now alone, I can't stop my eyes from glancing over to where TJ stands with his mom, which I recognize from the photos he's shown me, and two other people, a man and a woman, who both look somewhere in their twenties or thirties. The woman has the same blonde hair as the other Kippens, but the man does not. He has darker hair and darker skin but a light, cherry red shirt tucked into his jeans. 

After a moment, TJ notices me staring at him, and he raises his eyebrows a couple times then gives me a silly cross-eyed smile, which makes me laugh. I know I can't go talk to him here, but I don't think I'll be able to last this whole evening if I can't talk to him, so I take out my phone to text him.

 **Me:** Meet me in the trees behind the playground.

TJ notices his phone alert and checks the message before responding with a nod. We both find our own ways to casually sneak out of the main event and off to the large cluster of trees that act as a wall between the park and the bike path that leads out to the ridge. In the forestry, I find TJ waiting for me, and he smiles at my entrance. 

"Don't you look good today," he says. 

"You say that everyday," I reply.

"Because you look good everyday. I especially love the moose shirt."

I glance down at the pattern of tiny brown moose on my button-up. I bought this with Buffy in the spring at a consignment shop, and it's easily become my most worn shirt.

"Thank you," I say. "How are you?"

"I'm..." he pauses to think of a word. "...s'well."

"Who were the other two people you and your mom were talking to?" I wonder. 

"Oh, that was my sister, Kim, and her husband, Shawn."

"Right. I almost forgot that Amber wasn't your only sibling."

"Yeah, most of them don't come around too often," TJ explains. "Kim lives nearby, so she comes to visit sometimes, but the others aren't as close. Lesley's in British Columbia, since she just finished university there. Travis lives in Australia now. And Aron lives in Salt Lake city, so he comes around occasionally when he wants to make the drive."

"Interesting," I respond. "And are all your siblings as handsome as you?"

I step up to him, wrapping my arms around his waist as he looks down at me with a grin. He tilts his chin down to meet his lips with mine, and there's a sweet silence for the moment he's kissing me. When it ends, his hands trace my upper arms down to my elbows and then find their way to my torso, sending chills through me with every move. 

"You really have a one-track mind, don't you?" he says. 

"Hey, it's not my fault you're so attractive," I argue. 

He keeps his eyes on me for another moment then steps back, letting me go, and I feel the cold of his absence seep in. 

"I wish I could talk to you not hidden in a forest," he says. 

"I'm sorry," I say, feeling like it's my fault, even though I know it's not. "My dad would freak out if he saw me with you."

"That's okay," TJ responds. "I would only be able to tell my family that you're my friend, and if I could be around you, I doubt I'd be able to keep myself from doing things that...aren't things friends do."

"So I guess we'll just be strangers for today," I conclude. 

"Yeah," TJ agrees. "Strangers."

We both stare at each other for a moment, neither one of us doing or saying anything. Then I finally speak up.

"TJ?"

"Yeah?"

"Can we start later?"

He nods rapidly. "Yeah."

I give in to the tension and collide my lips with his, taking his face in my hands, and he falls back against the tree trunk behind him as he pulls me in harder. My energy kicks into high-gear as I make every attempt to get as close to him as possible. We make out for what must be close to ten minutes before TJ finally has the discipline to pull back. We both work on catching our breath as my body's adrenaline levels sink back down, and I try to convince the voice in my head that here is not the time and place to continue further. 

"Okay, cool," TJ says between breaths. "Strangers."

"Mhmm."

All of a sudden, the shuffle of grass sounds, and I leap away from my boyfriend, seeing my father coming through the trees. He glances between TJ and me, obviously not expecting to see us together, and I try to come up with a quick excuse. 

"I just came over here to look at the trees, and TJ was here," I say.

My dad glares at my boyfriend but accepts the reason, simply telling me, "Well, stay in sight. Can you help Mrs. Baker with unloading her stuff from her car?"

"Yes," I comply. 

I step away from TJ, giving him one last look before heading off with my dad. Once I'm out of the trees and back by the field of people, I hear my text tone go off, and I check my phone to find a text from TJ. 

**Bad Boy Piano Guy:** My parents aren't gonna be home tomorrow. Wanna come over?

 **Me:** Yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No notes, because I have one more chapter coming as soon as I proof read it. Don't go to sleep yet!


	9. Chapter 9

**TJ's POV**

Cyrus gazes up at the high ceiling in my house's entryway. Then he wanders in farther, finding his way through to the kitchen. The space is decorated with white cabinets, several pieces of abstract art that my parents got from local galleries, and a wood backsplash over the stove. A chandelier light hangs over the dining table, and images of me and my siblings stripe the wall by the coat rack.

"Wow," he breathes. "It's bigger than I imagined."

Then his sights catch on the piano out on the back deck, and I know before he says it what he's thinking.

"You should play a song for me."

"I've played many songs for you," I reply.

"Yeah, but only while I'm in my room listening," he says. "I'd like to hear one up close."

I take a minute to ponder that, and I eventually come to a conclusion I like.

"Okay," I say, "but you have to sing while I play."

Cyrus's eyes go up in disappointment, but I don't budge. I think this is a perfectly reasonable offer I'm making. I also really want to see if he can sing.

He lets out a sigh. "Okay, fine. You don't have to play."

I shake my head. "No way. Come on."

"TJ..."

I slide open the back door to the deck and go outside. Cyrus drifts over as I sit down on the piano bench, but he has his arms crossed, his look of nervousness still on his face. Glancing over at him, I scoot to the right, making space for him to join me.

"I really can't sing well," he reasons.

"What are you afraid of?" I ask.

He stays silent for a moment before answering, "I don't want to be embarrassed."

"Remember when I accidentally sent you that photo of myself before I did my hair and I looked like a mess? That was embarrassing. Your singing won't be. Sit down."

"But you're cute when you're a mess," Cyrus comments. 

"And you'll be cute when you sing. Come on."

Cyrus finally caves and comes to join me at the piano. I begin playing random chords on the keys while I consider what melody to create. 

"What songs do you know?" I ask. 

"Um, do you know 'Lemon Boy'?"

"Of course," I reply. 

I start with the first chord, and I can see Cyrus shaking from nerves. When the lyrics are supposed to come in, he starts singing regardless, and I'm immediately in awe. He definitely lied when he said he couldn't sing. His voice blends with the notes so perfectly all the way through the song, and I wish for a moment that I could be someone else so that I could just listen to us together and soak in the beautiful tune. But I'd rather be me next to him, knowing he's doing this for me and no one else. I'd rather have him than anything else. 

As I play the last chord, the music hangs in the air like stardust above us. For a second, I swear I'm floating, but then the world comes back to me, and Cyrus lets out a laugh, releasing the last of his nerves. 

"I told you you would be good," I say. 

"You're the one with the talent," he refutes. "You should be a musician."

"Yeah, I don't know what I want to do," I breathe. "I considered piano, but I don't think I'd want to make a job out of this, because once I'm forced to do it, and it's not an option anymore, I think the fun would be lost."

"That makes sense," Cyrus replies. "Sometimes great things are great simply because we could choose for ourselves whether to see them as great."

"What do you want to do?" I ask him. "Do you have a plan for what your future will look like?"

We've never talked about this kind of thing before. I know about how he likes chocolate chocolate chip muffins, how he only ever sees the good in people, and how he has a fear of flamingos, but those are all things to do with the present. None of it extends to what he might do in the future.

"I don't really know," Cyrus answers, "but I guess I'll figure it out."

"How do you do that?" I wonder. 

"Do what?"

"Be comfortable with not knowing what to do, and knowing that one choice you make could change everything, and you won't be able to stop it, because you won't know what's going to happen. Like, in the future, I could find out that I didn't take any of the right high school classes to get into what I want. I might find out that someone in my family died or got hurt, but I could've helped if I had just chosen to be there. Or I could end up missing out on an opportunity because I didn't think it mattered. Everything's just so uncertain. In the future, I might not even have you, because I could do something stupid again."

Cyrus looks at me in a way that tells me he's had his answer prepared long before he met me. 

"TJ," he says, "You don't need to know who you are and what you want right now. And you can't possibly know what outcome your choices will have in the future. All you can do is just do what feels right at every moment, and wherever you end up, you'll be okay."

"But what if I'm not?" I mutter. "Right now, it feels like there are just so many things blocking me from being able to get to what I want. What if I never really get there, and I'm stuck somewhere I don't want to be? What if I mess things up so bad that I can't fix them, and I just end up wasting my life in a dark pit? Or what if I think I'm doing something good, and then I find out that I caused something horrible to happen?"

Cyrus stays silent for a moment, and in that time, I end up on something new. 

"I like rainbows for that reason," I utter. "When you see a rainbow, it means there's no more rain. It's done, and the sun is there, and it's not going to be dark again."

"Well, have you ever heard of a moonbow?" Cyrus asks. 

I shake my head. 

"A moonbow is a rainbow that shows up at night from the moonlight rather than the sun. It's dark outside, but there's still light around. Although we can't see the sun at night, it's there, and the moon catches the sunlight to use for itself. Even when its as dark as it can get, there's still a light somewhere. We just have to be willing to acknowledge it."

Cyrus is wise beyond anyone I've ever met. It's at moments like this one that I wonder how I got so lucky to have him enter my life. A boy as amazing as him must only care for amazing things. It takes me a while to process the fact that he cares about me. 

"A moonbow is a beautiful thing in the wrong place," Cyrus goes on. "I think that makes it even more beautiful. Don't you?"

"I do," I agree.

His eyes fall from my eyes to my lips as he notices me leaning in. When we kiss, it's like a million suns all at once, drowning out every particle of dreariness in my heart. This is the one thing I'm sure about—him and me. I'm certain that, even if I don't know what will happen to us in the future, I like this now. I like him being here, and this is the right choice. I like feeling his kiss disintegrate my walls and invade my every inch. I know moonbows can't be people, but if they could, he would certainly be one. He is the most beautiful thing in my life, and it taints all the bad things, making them all vanish the second he touches me. 

My fantasy shatters the second I hear Amber's voice, mutter, "Uh, TJ..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, well, I'm really excited. I hope you liked these past two chapters. I didn't have any notes on that, because I knew I'd have notes on this. Anyway, how's everybody holding up? Well, I hope? Thank you to all those who've been reading my stories consistently lately. It really makes my day every day when I see your comments and votes and just your little icons in my notifications. I guess I'll go to sleep now. Tomorrow I'm gonna update Snapdragon. Have a lovely night, lovelies.


	10. Chapter 10

**TJ's POV**

Cyrus and I break apart, and the weight of my fear comes plummeting down on me. She saw us. I didn't even think that she might come home. I'm an idiot. 

Cyrus is smart. He senses the rising tension and stands up, saying, "I'll let you two talk."

Amber steps aside to let my boyfriend pass and exit the house. After he's gone, Amber strolls over and leans her elbow on the top of the piano. I can't read her face. She doesn't seem disgusted or excited. She mostly just looks like she's lost in thought. I wish I could hear what's going on inside her head so I could know what I should brace myself for. 

"So…" she says, interrupting the long awkward silence. 

I have to say something. I can't just sit here not talking. So I suck in all the courage I can find and force the words out. 

"Cyrus is my boyfriend. I'm kinda…gay."

A smile spreads on Amber's face as she lets out a short laugh and says, "No shit." 

I release the breath I've been holding in. Now that I've told her, I don't regret it. The air is suddenly so much smoother in my lungs, and the heaviness dissolves into nothing. 

"I wish you would've told me sooner," Amber says after a moment.

"Really?" I respond. "Why?

"Because then I would've told you that I'm a lesbian."

That takes me a second to process. We've both been keeping this secret from each other for years, yet we could've shared it. We could've had someone in our family to confide in and relate to, but we were both too scared. Fear really has the tendency to wreck things that have the potential to be good. 

Out of nowhere, I end up laughing, as though all my nerves don't know where to go now, but they need to be set free. It's not long before Amber join in, and she comes to sit down beside me on the piano bench. 

"So," she says again, "I assume you haven't told Mom and Dad?"

I shake my head. "Have you?"

"No," she answers. "But I want to."

"Same. I just don't know how they'd take it."

"Well, you know," she starts, "I don't know if it'd be harder or easier for them, but it'd sure be easier for us if we told them together."

We could tell them together. That's a possibility I never considered before. I just always thought I was the only gay one in the family.

"You don't think having them find out that two of their kids are gay at the same time would be a little earth-shaking for them?" I say.

"Nah," Amber replies. "They have three other kids who are straight."

I furrow my brows. "They have four."

Amber sucks in some air through clenched teeth before letting out a laugh and saying, "Yeah, um, Lesley's roommate isn't just her roommate."

My mouth opens at the realization. "Wow, okay. I guess that's why she's in B.C."

"She just decided not to tell our parents at all," Amber explains.

"But she told you?"

"Not exactly. I found her Tumblr from when she was in high school, and…well… Bi pride flags everywhere."

That makes me smile. I'm not the only one. Two of my siblings had to go through this same worry. All this time, I thought I was alone. I thought I was the odd one out. I thought it was pitch black out when there was really a moonbow glowing that I neglected to see.

"I have a tiny pride flag in the back of my closet," I spout. "I tried to take it out, but I got scared and put it back. I want to be able to have a big rainbow flag on my wall without being afraid." After a pause, I say, "Let's tell them." Then I let out a nervous breath. "Any ideas on how?"

"Well, it's a little extra," she replies, "but I have an idea."

"Okay, what is it?"

She turns a bit more to face me, ready to explain her plan. "First, we need some paint." 

________________________________________

Apparently the training from her job has paid her enough for six cans of paint, one for each colour of the rainbow. Working together, we manage to clear our furniture away from the walls within twenty minutes. We're only painting one wall in each of our rooms, and we both chose the walls opposite of the windows so that anyone looking into our house will be able to see how gay it is. After laying down a tarp in my room, we grab a ladder from the garage and pour out the first colour, red, into a paint tray. 

Amber picks up one of the rollers and looks over at me. "You ready?"

"Yeah, sure," I reply, not really knowing how to answer that. 

Am I truly ready to find out whether my parents really love me or not? No. But I don't see how waiting will get me more ready, so I climb up the ladder and press the roller to the wall, creating the first mark of colour. Instantly, a smile lights up on my face, and it doesn't go away for the entire time that we're painting my room and my sister's. During the process, we have several bops blasting, including "Girls" by girl in red, "Heaven" by Troye Sivan, "Not Worth Hiding" by Alex the Astronaut, "Girls/Girls/Boys" by Panic! at the Disco, and of course, "Same Love" by Macklemore, Ryan Lewis, and Mary Lambert. 

When the job is finished, we both have the colours of the rainbow splattered on our clothes, but neither of us change into something clean. We pack away the supplies, and a few hours later, we move the furniture back into place and simply carry on with our days, waiting for our parents to get home. It's hard to think of anything other than my nervousness, so Amber helps me keep my mind off that by challenging me to several games of Uno. Soon enough, we hear the rumble of our parents' feet entering the house, and the two of us prepare ourselves for whatever we're about to face. We're sitting in my room when our dad comes up the stairs to say hello. 

"How was the day?" my dad asks us. "Do anything fun."

Amber and I share a glance, both sounding a simultaneous, "Um…"

The wall that's painted is the one which surrounds the doorway, so my dad doesn't notice anything is different until he steps in a bit farther and catches a glimpse of the bright stripes to his left. 

"Good Lord," he reacts. "What happened here?" 

Then he calls for my mother, and she rushes in, her jaw dropping when she sees the rainbow flag that is my wall. 

"You know, if you wanted to paint something, I could've put you in an art class," my mom says. "You didn't have to go and paint the house."

I truly don't know how to interpret that. Are they mad? Confused? Happy? They haven't yelled yet, so I decide to explain more, although the thump in my chest is objecting loudly.

"I'm gay," I say.

They both remain faced away, gazing at the wall, and I wonder if they even heard me. 

"What do you think?" I ask, wanting some kind of response. 

"Well," my dad replies, "some of the lines are a tad messy, but overall you did a good job."

"No, I mean about me being gay," I say. 

"Oh, yeah, that's fine," my dad says, turning around to me. 

Amber's eyes watch our mom as the woman spots the hint of rainbow in her room through the open bathroom doors. Mom rushes through to my sister's room to examine her wall. 

"Honey, look!" she calls to my dad. "Amber did it too."

"Yeah, uh," Amber says, obviously just as confused by our parents' reactions as I am. "I'm also gay."

"Looks like we've got three gay kids now," my dad tells my mom. 

"Wait," Amber cuts in. "You know about Lesley?"

"Lesley?" my mom says, reentering my room. "We're talking about Travis."

"Travis is gay too?" Amber responds. "And you were okay with it?"

"Yeah. He told us last year," Mom goes on. "At first, we weren't so happy about it, but after doing research on the subject, we learned a lot about it and changed our minds."

So Travis basically broke the fall for us by jumping first. I'll have to remember to thank him. 

"Anyway," my mom says, "I think I have some of that multi-coloured pasta left. I'll make that for supper, because it seems fitting."

I'm still in shock, but I nod my head, and my parents exit the room to go do their tasks. I look at my sister, and we both end up breaking into relieved laughter together.

"Congratulations," Amber says. "You officially came out."

"You too," I reply. "And thank you. I wouldn't have had the courage to do this without you."

"Don't get all sappy with me," she says with a smile. 

She stands up and starts toward her room, but then she looks back one more time.

"By the way," she says, "I totally approve of Cyrus."

I smile, and she continues away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. I have to do accounting now. I know I said I would update Snapdragon next, but I realized I need to get the plan finished fully before I can continue it easily, so I'm going to be working on that outline and the outline fro Not Strangers, and once I've done those, I'll update them. I hope this chapter was entertaining for you. Love you. Have a good night.


	11. Chapter 11

**Cyrus's POV**   
  
  


TJ opens the front door of his house, and I step on in with a smile on my face and no invitation to come inside. Of course, TJ doesn't mind at all. He already texted me last night to tell me how he came out to his parents, which I'm incredibly proud of him for, but he also said that there was something else I needed to see.

"Okay," I say. "What did you want to show me?"

He grins and takes my hand, leading me up the stairs to his bedroom. When he stops and spins me around, my jaw drops into a huge smile. The six stripes of the rainbow flag have taken over his wall with their gayness. 

"Oh my gosh," I say. "I love it so much."

"Thanks," he says. "I spent all day yesterday on it."

"A day well-spent," I add. 

He smiles and squeezes my hand a little before moving on, saying, "Should we get going? We don't want to be late for the clothing swap."

"Yes," I answer. "I don't have any clothes to give, though. I only brought, like, ten shirts to my dad's, so I can't really get rid of any."

"That's okay," he responds. "I have a ton of stuff to give, and Amber gave me a ton of her clothes too."

"Good."

He starts out of his room, and I come along with him. At the bottom of the stairs, there's an unexpected stop in our path when TJ's mother enters from the living room. Her eyes brighten at the sight of me, and she looks back and forth between me and her son. 

"TJ, who is this?" she asks politely. 

"Uh, this is Cyrus," he replies. "He's my boyfriend."

His mom takes a second to let that settle in before she smiles and says, "It's great to meet you, Cyrus. I'm TJ's mom, but you can just call me Heather."

His mom is so nice. I glance over to TJ with a beaming smile before returning my sight to his mom. 

"It's nice to meet you too," I say. 

"Well, we're gonna head out now, so I'll be back later," TJ says. 

"Okay," his mom responds. "Be safe."

TJ thanks his mom and opens the door for me, gesturing for me to go first. I catch a glimpse of Heather's smile and big eyes as if she's looking at something as adorable as a baby's first walk. I have a smile of my own, knowing TJ and I definitely deserve that reaction from her.

________________________________________

**TJ's POV**

The clothing swap is held at the central library in one of the rooms that the public can book for meetings and events. The glass walls make the activity inside visible from the outside, which draws in more people. Tables of clothing are set up, and about twenty or so people buzz around them, rummaging through the display. 

As Cyrus and I walk in, Leilani comes over to greet us. 

"Hey," she says. 

"Hey," I reply. "There are a more people here than I thought there'd be."

"I know," she agrees. "I definitely thought this would be a flop."

"Well, it turned out great. I'll go lay my stuff out."

Cyrus helps me neatly place all of the clothing we brought onto the tables, although the stuff already on it is kind of a tangled mess due to all the hands that have been poking through. Once we're done, I go back to Leilani, but she doesn't stay long, for she spots something else.

"Oh, there are more people," she informs me.

Leilani walks over to say hello, but when I look to see who's entered, my mood tanks in an instant. Reed and Lester are walking in, carrying their own bundles of clothing. I'm pretty sure the last time I checked, Reed and Lester didn't give a single shit about the climate. But Leilani directs them to where they can put their clothing down, and they do that. 

"Give me one sec," I say to Cyrus. 

"Do you know them?" he asks. 

"Yeah," I say, "actually, they used to be my best friends."

"The watermelon friends?"

"Yeah, the watermelon friends."

He nods, and I let go of his hand to head over to Reed and Lester. As I approach, they turn to me, both putting on uncomfortable smiles. 

"What are you guys doing here?" I question. 

Reed glances to Lester before answering, "We heard about the clothing swap from your instagram, and we wanted to support it."

"Since when do you care about stuff like this?"

"Look, I know you probably won't believe me, and I don't blame you," Reed says, "but after talking to you that day, I spent some time thinking, and I realized you were right. I didn't want to accept it, but I do need to change the way I'm doing things, so this is me trying to do that."

"I kinda want to get into college next year," Lester adds for himself, "so I figured I need to start caring about not ruining my name."

"You probably don't want to be friends with us again," Reed says, "but it'd be really cool if you'd at least forgive us. And maybe help us with this whole being good thing, since I'm not really that good at it yet."

This is a complete surprise to me. I never once thought that Reed and Lester might actually want to change. Maybe that's just because I always thought Reed was too deep into the hole he dug to ever get back out, but it seems like he's actually trying. Both of them are. And even though they've been idiots, they've also always been there for me. They never once made me feel bad for who I was or what made me different. So if I can do anything to help them, I want to do it. 

I step away, and frowns drop on their faces, but when I come back with Cyrus's hand in mine, their faces light up again. 

"Cyrus," I say, "this is Reed and Lester, my friends."

Cyrus glances up at me then at my friends and says, "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Reed looks from Cyrus to me then says, "He talks fancy. I like him."

Cyrus and I share a giggle until the sound of a voice I know steals my focus. I spin to see my sister with Cyrus's friend, Andi, walking in with their hands interlocked. Cyrus goes over to them, and I follow. 

Cyrus looks ready to lecture his friend, but she cuts him off before he can even start.

"I know. Im sorry. I didn't tell you, because I honestly didn't think she would like me longer than a week, and then she did, and I wasn't sure where to start explaining it all."

"Start with this," Cyrus says. "Your card did go through."

Amber's eyes flick to Andi's as she gives her a smile, responding, "I wanted an excuse to get her number."

"Anyway," Andi says, "Where do I put this?"

She holds up a bag of clothing. 

"Just lay them out anywhere on the tables," I reply. 

"Awesome. Thanks."

She and my sister head over to do that, and I take Cyrus's other hand to bring him around to face me. I want to kiss him, but I know that in a room of over twenty other people is not the place to do it, for I've always disliked seeing other people's PDA, and I'm not about to be hypocritical. Instead, I just stare at him with a dopey grin.

"Yes?" Cyrus asks.

"I'm just happy," I say. "Everything seems to be working out."

"Yeah," he agrees. Then he remembers something and adds, "We've been together for almost a month."

"Yeah, we have."

"Eventually I will have to tell my dad."

That darkens the moment. I guess he can't keep us a secret forever, but I'm worried about what his dad will say. Hiding things is never easy, especially when it's from your parents, but sometimes it's necessary. I wish I knew whether it was necessary in this situation or not. I don't think he knows either. 

"Eventually," I agree. "And when you do, I'll be waiting to give you a hug after."

He smiles, though he still looks nervous. But he puts that aside for right now so that he can let go of my hands and go over to browse through the clothing. His dad is an issue for another day. Not today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to bed now! Yay! Good night! I love you all! Yeah.


	12. Chapter 12

**TJ's POV**

I look up at the sky, the wooden railings of the bridge framing my vision. The stream flitters through the rocks a couple metres below, the sound of the rushing water taking over the air. The sun is nearly gone, but the heat from the day lingers on every surface. Emerging stars through the clouds dance in the sky like fairies twirling to a song I can't hear. I'm okay with not hearing, though. The only music I need is the rhythm of Cyrus's heartbeat thumping under my palm as he rests his head on my chest, holding my hand over his heart. 

We both lie on the bridge perpendicular to each other, me sprawled out parallel to the bridge, and him on a right angle, his knees dangling over the edge of the wooden planks. The way we are right now is so comfortable, just us existing in silence, but I also love the sound of Cyrus's voice, which is why I don't mind when he does break the quiet by speaking. 

"What are you thinking right now?" he asks me. 

I like it when he asks things like that, broad and random and completely intentional. He is going to listen to my answer, because he wants to know it. He only asks me questions when he wants to know the answer. He would never waste his breath on something that wasn't of the utmost importance to him. 

"I'm thinking," I utter, "that I'm the luckiest guy in the world. What are you thinking?"

He tilts his head to me and replies, "Your mom makes really good chocolate chocolate chip muffins."

I smile at that, letting out a little chuckle. "Well, she loves having you around, so I'm sure you can come by anytime to get one."

"I know what I'm doing everyday from now on," he says with a giggle. 

"That means you'll have to pay me back by getting your parents to make muffins for me."

A puff of air releases from him as his smile drops, and I realize why what I said was wrong within a couple seconds. In my dreamy state, I had forgotten completely that him and I are not in the same boat when it comes to our families' acceptance. 

"If they ever make muffins, I'll try to sneak an extra for you," Cyrus says after a minute. 

He's trying to be positive, but he's obviously glum, and I feel like it's my fault. 

"I'm sorry," I say. 

"You didn't do anything," he assures me. "I should just tell them. It's been long enough. I'm just…worried they'll be mad."

I don't know what to say to that, but I do want to make him feel better, so rather than say anything, I simply slide out from under his head and push myself up onto my feet. Cyrus looks up, confused and a little frightened. 

"Are you leaving?" he asks in, fear in his voice. 

"What? No."

I take out my cell phone and open up my Spotify to pick a song I've been listening to on repeat lately: "Swim" by DIZZY. The music ripples from the tiny speaker as I set my phone down on the bridge and reach out, offering my hand to Cyrus. Curious, he takes it, and I help him up to his feet. Then I lift one of his hands up and clasp it through mine, putting my other arm around his waist. 

"What are you doing?" he says with a smile. 

"Getting your mind onto something brighter."

Accepting my response, he steps in and follows my lead as I start swaying from side to side slowly. While we dance, the trees stop and turn their leaves to watch us, the river halts in place to gaze up at our movement, and the air makes space for us to glide through it like dandelions riding the wind. After a moment, I step away and bring his arm over his head for him to spin beneath. He does so with a laugh and returns back to me, even closer this time, resting his head on my shoulder. 

"TJ," he utters over the pale ring of the song. 

"Yeah?" 

"Do you believe in soulmates?"

I consider that for a moment. Before I met Cyrus, the idea that two people could be simply made for each other seemed absurd, but now, with him in my arms, it doesn't seem so impossible. 

"If there is a such thing as a soulmate," I reply, "I know who mine would be."

"Me too," he says. 

"Shrek."

He steps back, looking hurt, but then he falls into laughter.

"If Shrek were real, I would completely understand," he says. 

I laugh, and my eyes finds his lips, and then my lips find his lips, and my heart finds his heart. My energy finds his energy. My soul finds his soul, and they braid together like rope, forming a bond so strong that nothing could split them apart. I hope.

__________________________________________

**Cyrus's POV**

TJ puts his car in park in front of my house, and the headlights disappear as he pulls the key out. He watches as I unbuckle my seatbelt and reach to open my door. When his eyes flick to my lips, I know what he's thinking. 

"I'm already later than I said I would be," I reason. 

"Hey," he says. "The quicker you kiss me, the sooner I'll leave, and the sooner you can go inside. 

Cursing my weak heart, I return back to him to give him a single kiss before exiting the vehicle. I close the door, and he rolls the window down to smile at me as I step away. But the second I spin around to face the house, I see a light turn on in my living room. 

_Oh no._

Without warning, the front door swings open, and my father marches out, looking like the angry emoji come to life. 

"Cyrus!" he barks. "Get inside!"

I hurry to oblige, but when I reach the porch, I stop to turn back, seeing my dad approaching my boyfriend's car to unleash his fury. TJ doesn't know what to do. He looks between me and my dad, but he doesn't drive away, which makes sense. That would only create a worse impression on my dad.

"You!" my dad shouts. "What makes you think you can come here and corrupt my son?"

"I—I'm sorry," TJ stutters out. 

My dad ignores him. "Go home and stay away from my son!"

"Yes, sir."

TJ gives me another glance before starting his car and steering into the road. When my dad spins back around to come back, I spring inside, bracing myself for the lecture. After shutting the door, his eyes rise up to me, frozen as frost. 

Before he even says anything, I begin rambling, "I'm sorry I'm late. My phone died, so I couldn't text you—"

"Why was TJ bringing you home?" he asks, his voice cold and low. 

I try to think of the best way to answer that, but I come up with nothing. 

"He's not bad," I start defending. "He used to be bad, but he's changed. He's actually really nice and good and—"

"I don't want to hear it," my dad snaps. "I gave you one rule when you got here: don't talk to TJ. And what did you do? You go frolicking around with him behind my back. And I saw you kiss him. Are you dating him?"

"Yes, but—"

"Go to bed," he orders. "I don't want you seeing him again."

"But he's not that bad!" I argue, tears welling up in my eyes. 

"Do you know the things he's done?" My dad shouts. "Has he told you that I once caught him and his friends trying to steal Sharon's prescription meds from our garage when we first moved here?"

I didn't know that, but I know he's done a lot of things he's not proud of, and he doesn't have to tell me all of them. What he did before isn't him, so I don't need to know that. All I need to know is who he is now, because I'm dating the person he is now, not then.

"He's made a lot of mistakes, but he's not like that anymore," I insist. 

"Well, I don't want you making those mistakes too," my dad responds. "You're not seeing him anymore. That's final."

I stand there for another moment, tears streaking my cheeks before I finally accept that he's not going to budge, and I stomp upstairs to go cry in private.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Three more chapters left. I'm excited. I hope you liked this all. (And by liked, I mean I hope you hated this chapter and yelled at your screens). I'm gonna try to write another chapter tonight, but I'm not sure if I will. I already updated today when I said I wouldn't. Anyway, have a lovely night.


	13. Chapter 13

**Cyrus's POV**

"Cyrus!" I hear my dad's voice call. "Dinner!"

I turn off the TV and trudge into the kitchen, pouting the same way I've been pouting since yesterday. Without TJ to see today, I spent the whole day rewatching the entirety of High School Musical: The Musical: The Series on Disney Plus. It kept my mind off my sadness for a while, but every time an episode ended, it drifted back to TJ, and I had to start from scratch again with trying to forget him. 

The thing is, I don't want to break up with him, and I'm not going to. Even if my dad never lets me see him again, I'll be able to see him once I go back to my mom's house. But I'm not sure I'll be able to last that long. I think I may crack before then. 

"Come on over and grab some supper," my dad says. 

I drag myself toward the island where the casserole dish sits, steam fogging the air above it. My parents both watch me as I pick up a plate and slop a scoop of food onto it. 

"How was your day?" Sharon tries to ask me.

"Well, I think I broke a record for how long a person can cry for," I mumble. 

She glances to my dad, looking concerned. My dad, however, holds his composure. 

"Maybe after dinner, we can all play a board game? Like we used to do when you were younger."

"I'm really not in the mood," I reply. 

"That's okay," Dad says. "At least we can have dinner all together."

"I'm taking my dinner to my room," I state. 

"Come on, Cyrus—"

"You already stopped me from seeing my boyfriend," I whine. "Will you please just let me be sad in peace?"

My dad doesn't argue with that, and I'm able to mope back upstairs where I sit criss-cross on my bed and shove the food in my mouth. Behind me, the window is open. I haven't closed it since I opened it last night. I've been waiting to hear a song float through the screen, but none has yet. 

A text stops me right as I'm about to stuff another forkful in my face. 

**TJ:** Any chance he'd let you out for a night?

 **Me:** He basically forbade me from ever seeing you again. I'm sorry. 

**TJ:** It's okay. I know it's not your fault. I'm sure he'll come around eventually.

I'm really not sure he will, but I don't want to kill TJ's hope.

 **Me:** Yeah, sure. Eventually. 

___________________________________________

The Fork is busy. Or maybe it's dead. I can't tell. My head is down in my arms on the table while Buffy, Andi and Jonah sit around me, all attempting to have a conversation about current events without letting me bring down their vibes, because I told them not to worry about me. It's not working. After long enough, Buffy finally addresses the situation. 

"Cyrus, I know it's hard not being able to see TJ, but I really can't look at you like this."

"Just ignore me," I groan. 

"Well, your hair's kinda in my fries," Andi replies, "so I really can't."

I force my head up and support it with my fists. All three of my friends look extremely concerned for my well-being. It's only been five days, but that might as well be a year. Any time without TJ is too long. At some point during the time we were together, I'm pretty sure he must've physically inserted his name into my brain, because it's all I can think about. Ever. When I wake up. TJ. When I'm eating breakfast. TJ. When I'm tripping on my way up the stairs. TJ. When I'm wailing along to the songs on my step-mom's 80s' country cassette tapes. You guessed it. TJ.

Andi picks a dark hair out of her fries and drops it on the ground.

"Sorry," I mutter. 

"All good," Andi replies. "They're still edible."

A second later, Andi's girlfriend glides over, asking, "Everything tasting good here?"

Looking at her now, I can see the family resemblance. The blonde hair. The… Well, basically just the blonde hair. But that's enough to get me feeling like a thunderstorm is overhead again, and I sink back in my seat. Jonah, who sits beside me in the booth, stares with worried eyes. 

"Everything's perfect," Andi replies to Amber. "Thanks."

"So for later," Amber says, "I'll pick you up once I'm done my shift. You wear something pretty?" 

"Are you saying what I'm wearing now isn't pretty?" 

"There's no way you could possibly be not pretty."

The girls give each other heart eyes as they giggle, and I want to be that bitter person who tells them to save it for when they're not around me, but then again, I also dislike those bitter people. I certainly have greater empathy for them now, though. 

Amber gives Andi a flirty wave goodbye before heading off to another table, and Andi stays smiling until she sees me again, at which point, that smile drops. 

"I'm sorry," she says. 

"You don't have to be sorry!" I snap, releasing a load of anger without meaning to. Andi flinches at my outburst, and I collect myself again before continuing, "I'm just tired. I haven't slept a full night in five days, and I've watched all of High School Musical: The Musical: The Series, Stranger Things, Atypical, I'm Not Okay With This, and Lost In Space, and now I'm constantly, and unreasonably, paranoid that I'm going to get eaten by a demogorgon or have some weird rust destroy my phone, which would leave me incapable of even texting TJ."

Buffy takes a moment to just look at me before responding, "Have you considered going outside?"

"I would, but if I walk outside, my feet will take me TJ's. I know it. And then my dad will be even more mad, and I don't want to make things worse, but I just really need to see TJ, and I've been praying for my dad to change his mind, but he's so stubborn. More stubborn than you."

"Hey, I am not stubborn," Buffy replies. 

"You kinda are," Jonah counters. 

"I am not," she pushes. 

"Okay, fine," Jonah says. "You're not stubborn."

Buffy smiles a little at her win, but that fades as she realizes the irony in what just happened. 

"Cyrus," Andi says, "if your dad has half a brain in his head, he'll realize you and TJ are meant to be together."

"I really hope so," I respond. 

"And until then," she goes on, "we're going to be here for you whenever you need us."

I smile. They're not TJ, but they are the best friends anyone could have. Having them to talk to will hopefully make this easier. Or at least maybe they'll distract me enough that I won't be crying 24/7.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more parts, fam! Let's go! Woo! Woo! But also, I'm going to sleep now. Bye!


	14. Chapter 14

**TJ's POV**

I hear Amber's arrival as she gets home from work and goes into the washroom between our bedrooms. Once she's done washing her hands, the door to her bedroom squeaks open, and I close my book to walk through the doors and into her room. She's in the process of taking off her hat and apron as I barge in and startle her a bit, causing her to flinch. 

"Have you ever heard of knocking?" she sasses. 

"Amber," I say, ignoring her annoyance, "I need your help."

I go over and plop down on her bed while she folds her apron and sits it on her desk. 

"It's been five days since I've been able to see Cyrus, and I'm kind of going crazy."

She flicks her eyes up to my ratted hair before responding, "Yeah. I can tell. How long do you think his dad will be mad?"

"I don't know, but I can't wait any longer."

Amber gets where I'm going before I even say it. She nods and comes over to drop onto the bed across from me, contemplating the process already. 

"So you need to find a way to get him onto your side," she says. 

"Yeah. I can't stand not being able to see Cyrus, but I understand why his dad doesn't want me around him. I need to convince him that I'm not like that anymore, and that I really care about Cyrus, so I would never do anything to hurt him." 

All of a sudden, my eyes widen. 

"I have an idea," I say. 

Amber scoots in to listen as I explain the plan, and she's with the the whole time, making mental notes of everything we'll need. 

About an hour or so later, I poke my head into the kitchen where my parents are making dinner.

"Hey, do you have three extensions cords I could borrow?"

My parents both look at me with perplexed expressions. 

"What do you need it for?" my mom replies. 

"I need it for my future, Mom."

"What are you plugging in?" Dad questions. 

"Raw, heartfelt emotions."

Clearly, neither of them understand what's happening, but I don't need them to. They both trust me enough to go off those vague as hell answers I gave them. 

"I'm pretty sure there are a few in the garage on the shelf."

"Thanks, Dad."

He gives me a nod as I run off to go gather the materials. Just a few more things, and then this will be ready. I just really hope it works. 

_________________________________________

As I park my car outside of Cyrus's house, I'm already feeling the nerves making me jittery. 

"Hey," Amber says, "it will be fine. You've got this."

"What if he throws a tomato at me?" I respond. 

"That'd be a waste of a tomato."

She gives me a pat on my shoulder and starts climbing out of my car, which is my cue to do the same. I shut my door before heading to the trunk and lifting it open. 

"I'll plug in the extension cords," Amber says, reaching for those. 

While she's busy finding an outlet on the porch without making so much noise that the Goodmans will open their blinds to see what's going on outside, I pick up the long, large case from my car and haul it over onto the grass. There, I unzip it and fold the top out of the way. I rarely use this keyboard, but I tested it before I left, so I know it works. I lift the top of the instrument and lock the legs in place to hold it up. When Amber comes over with one end of an extension cord, she passes it to me to plug in. That's one item ready. 

Next, I retrieve the microphone and stand from the car and set those up behind the keyboard. The speaker comes after, and I place that carefully in the grass beside me. Amber closes my trunk, and I switch both the mic and keyboard on. The keyboard and speaker both light up to show that they're alive, but the microphone doesn't, so I tap it to test it, which causes a loud thud to echo out, and Amber hurries to turn down the volume on the speaker. 

"You'll be great," she tells me. "Just pour your heart into it."

"Thanks."

I glance up at the house and the lights glowing behind the curtains. Then I position my hands over the keys and play the first note. After that, the song comes naturally, even though I only finished writing it fifteen minutes ago, and I try not to let my voice shake in fear as I sing the lyrics. **_[Go to_**<https://youtu.be/5DHcW3hFeG8> ** _now to hear the song recorded with guitar instead of piano, 'cause I can't play piano well]_**

_"Dear Mr. Goodman,  
_ _won't you please listen  
_ _to this song I wrote today?"_

Suddenly, the front door of Cyrus's home whips open, making me tense up, but I continue my song nonetheless. 

_"I know you don’t like me,  
_ _and you have the right, 'cause  
_ _I definitely haven’t acted that great."_

_"But I just need to say…"_

Cyrus's dad stands staring at me with a mixture of confusion and wonder on his face. 

"What the hell?" he shouts. 

_"Mr. Goodman, I know I messed up._   
_I'm really trying to do my best now._   
_I'm just trying to turn my life around._

_"Mr Goodman, red lights, I never run._   
_And I stopped skipping classes just for fun._   
_Mr. Goodman please let me date your son."_

Next, the window on the second story swings open, and I look up to see Cyrus's face grinning wider than I've ever seen before as he watches me with starry eyes. 

_"You see, I stopped smoking weed, and_   
_I help old ladies cross the street, and_   
_I might even start a garage band._

_"With no bad words in my songs._

_"I always thank my bus driver._   
_And you can bet I tip my waiter._   
_I really want to start again."_

Soon, others in the neighbourhood start opening their windows and doors to see where all the ruckus is coming from. As they catch sight of the boy serenading his boyfriend's dad with a poorly written song that hardly even rhymes, looks of awe fall upon them, which gives me more encouragement to sing even more powerfully. 

_"Mr. Goodman, I know I messed up.  
I'm really trying to do my best now._   
_I'm just trying to turn my life around._

_"Mr Goodman, red lights, I never run._  
And I stopped skipping classes just for fun.  
Mr. Goodman please let me date your son.

_"Please let me date your son."_

At the end of the song, claps ring out from the neighbours watching, but Cyrus's dad just stares at me. Obviously, he didn't peg me as the kind of boy to go this far to be with his son. Cyrus attempts to look over the roof below his window to see his dad, but he can't, so he just listens intently, waiting for his reaction. 

"Mr. Kippen, you do realize you're breaking a law by making this much noise after 10:00 pm," Cyrus's dad informs me. 

To that, I reply with a grin, "It's 9:59, Mr. Goodman."

He keeps his eyes on me, and I start seeing a small smile curl on his lips. Then he turns to call back into the house, "Cyrus, I believe he's waiting for you!"

Cyrus lets out a squeal as he jumps and races down the stairs and out the front door. His dad steps out of his way to let him run up to me, and I encompass him in my arms in an instant. I haven't felt his touch in nearly a week. Feeling it now liberates all the emotions I've been missing, all the excitement and desire and pure happiness that he sparks within me. 

Mr. Goodman observes the two of us in silence. He looks disappointed, but not in us. Rather, he looks disappointed in himself. I know he meant no harm. He just wanted to do what any good dad would do—protect his son.

"Thank you," I tell him over Cyrus's shoulder. 

He nods and heads inside his home, letting Cyrus and I enjoy our reunion on our own—well, as on our own as we can be with my sister standing on the side. But her presence doesn't stop Cyrus from pulling me down to meet his kiss, and it certainly doesn't stop me from accepting it like an inhale of atmosphere after nearly drowning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I recorded that song with guitar, because I'm not good at piano. Only the epilogue left. Then after that, I'll a surprise for y'all.


	15. Epilogue

**_Three Months Later_ **

**Cyrus's POV**

The minute I step outside of my Mom's house, my mouth falls into a gaping grin. TJ gazes at me as I approach him leaning against the decades old, sky blue Chevy truck. It's definitely been well-loved by its previous owner, a characteristic made visible by the scrapes and dings in the metal, but my boyfriend looks so proud of every piece of it. 

"You got a Chevy," I say. 

"I did," he replies. "And guess how much it cost."

"How much?"

"Nine hundred."

"Nine hundred dollars? Does it work?"

"Hell, yeah, it works," he answers proudly. 

I smile and reach for the passenger's side door, at which point, I see his mouth open like he's about to say something, but he backs down when I find the issue for myself. My seat, if you can even call it that, has no actual fabric covering. Instead, it's just a bunch of foam and framing stuck together in the shape of a chair. All the seats are the same too, even the driver's. 

I glance back at TJ, saying, "What—?"

"That's nine hundred dollars you're looking at there," he says. 

I stare at him for a moment, in awe of literally everything about him. He's the only person I know who would be happy to get this car and show it to people, and I kind of love that about him, how even a lack of seats doesn't teeter his joy. He's just so grateful to have a Chevy, even if it is missing a few details. 

As I turn back to the truck, I notice another strange situation going on with the window of the back seat on the other side of the vehicle. I let out a gasp as I walk around to see it, and TJ has his teeth clenched as he follows me, knowing exactly what I'm looking at. The entire window is completely shattered into bits as small as erasers. The only thing keeping all the glass from collapsing is an earth-quaking amount of packing tape stuck over both the inside and out. 

"But nine hundred dollars," TJ reminds me. 

I turn to him, letting out a laugh, and he smiles, his eyes settling softly on me as though I'm some kind of living dream. It gives me chills, and I wind my hands through his, the two of us sinking into silence together. 

"So what do you think?" he asks me. 

Anyone else would say it's a piece of junk, and that he wasted his money, but I'm not anyone else. 

"I love it," I respond. 

"Me too," he says. Then a moment later, "There's one more thing I love."

"What?"

"Guess."

I'm pretty sure I already know the answer, but I still get butterflies as I reply, "Me?"

"You got it," he confirms. 

He tilts his chin down, and his lips float toward mine, but before they can touch, I pause to say one more thing. 

"I love you too."

Then he kisses me, and the sunshine clears the air of every speck of dust, then the land of every house, and the water of every wave, until it's just me and him and his Chevy tuck, a trio destined to be amazing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!! I'm so happy! I loved this. Also, this car was based off my friend's real life car, but that car was seven hundred dollars. Idk where he finds all these cars, but he's a legend. Anyway, Thank you all so much for reading! I really appreciate every single one of you! Now that this story is done, I'll be working real hard to continue with Snapdragon and Not Strangers, but I also have one other story that I'm going to hopefully publish today, because I'm too excited for it to wait. I'm not going to tell y'all anything about it yet, though, 'cause I want it to be a surprise. Thank you! Goodbye!


End file.
